


A Weather Of The World

by astolat



Series: The Weather Series [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dialogue-Only, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-08-11
Updated: 2000-08-11
Packaged: 2017-10-30 09:16:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astolat/pseuds/astolat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malfoy resolves his conflicts and pisses everyone off in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Weather Of The World

"I don't believe you."

"Harry--"

"I don't! You're wrong."

"Harry, I wish I were. But it's all over the school--the Slytherins aren't even trying to keep it quiet."

"He wouldn't. You don't know him, Hermione, and neither do they. He wouldn't."

Softly, "Harry, Crabbe and Goyle went with him--they were bragging about it to people yesterday. It's true. He's gone to join Voldemort."

"no."

A knock, then a door opening. "Hermione? Harry?"

"Over here, Ron."

Bitterly, "What, came to say 'I told you so'?"

"Harry, I'm sorry. I've been acting like a jerk the last few weeks instead of being a friend, right when I knew--"

"What are you apologizing for? I'm the one who pushed you away for a guy who's just gone to join my worst enemy."

"I've made worse mistakes."

"Name one."

A snort. "What about that mess with Lydia and the Amanthus charm? If she hadn't forgiven me and you two hadn't gotten Snape off my trail, I'd probably be in Azkaban right now--"

"Oh god."

"What?"

"Ron-- He knows. About that."

Stunned, "You _told_ him?"

"No! He found out somehow. That's--that's how--that's why--the first time--"

Silence, then slowly, "Harry, are you saying that bastard blackmailed you into sleeping with him? To protect me?"

A half-shrug.

"And you _fell_ for him?"

"All right, we've established that I'm an utter moron already!"

"Are you sure he wasn't slipping you something?"

A short laugh. "I'm sure. I can't even claim he lied to me."

"What?"

"He told me he'd dump me if it came down to it." Softly, "I didn't believe him."

"Oh, Harry..."

A sob.

Venomously, "I swear, when I get my hands on that filthy rat--"

A sound like thunder, and the tinkling of glass rattling in the panes.

"What was that?"

"I don't know--it sounded like an explosion. Can you see anything through the window, Ron?"

"No, nothing--what's that light?"

"Oh! It's my Head Girl badge, it's flashing. That--that means there's some kind of emergency. We have to get everyone down to the Great Hall right away. Come on, you two can help me organize the Gryffindors."

#

"My god, it's a madhouse down here."

"I'm going to go talk to McGonagall and see if she'll tell me what's going on. You two stay here." Footsteps hurrying away. 

"Harry, you all right?"

A shrug.

"Harry, come on--"

Panting. "Harry! Ron! Have you heard?"

A sigh. "Heard what, Colin?"

"It's You-Know-Who! He's attacking! One of the Slytherins told me he's going to blow the whole school up! What do we do?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Colin. You-Know-Who wouldn't dare take on Dumbledore--Harry, what are you--come back here!" Running footsteps. "Harry, get down from there! If You-Know-Who _is_ out there, he'll blow you to--"

Numbly, "He's there."

"Who's there--oh hell."

"He's standing right next to Voldemort."

A crash of noise. 

"Harry, get down!"

A thump. "I can't believe--he really--" Choking.

"Miserable bastard. Harry--he's not worth it--don't--"

"Don't worry. I'm not going to do anything stupid. I'm just going to wait--until--if--"

Running footsteps. Breathless, "Harry, Ron, have you heard? Voldemort's attacking!"

Flatly, "We saw."

A pause. "Is something wrong?"

Murmured, "He saw that scum Malfoy out there."

"Oh. Harry--"

"Don't bother. Look, there's got to be something we can do. I'm not just going to stand here and wait for Voldemort to blast his way in."

"As if he could! I keep trying to tell both of you, the castle is protected. I don't know why Voldemort was so silly as to attack this way, but he can't possibly destroy the castle's defenses and fight Dumbledore at the same time, not if he were ten times as powerful as he is."

"But then--oh no. That's it."

"Huh?"

"Ron, Hermione--we have to get down to the cellars, quick."

"No we don't! We have to stay right here. Dumbledore wants all the students to remain in the Great Hall--"

"You don't understand! I showed him the map!"

"Harry, you're not making sense. Showed who what map?"

"I showed Draco the Marauder's Map. He knows about the passage that comes out in the cellars, the one that was caved-in."

"Oh bloody hell. You reckon he's told You-Know-Who about it?"

"Hermione said it--it would be stupid for Voldemort to make a frontal attack. He's got to be planning to come in from underground. Clearing out the tunnel wouldn't be any trouble for him. Come on!"

Running. Panting, "I don't think this is such a good idea! We should just find one of the teachers and let them know--"

"Do you see any of them standing around, Hermione? I don't. We can yell for them once we get down there."

"Oof--what the--why's this door locked?"

"Oh, here-- _Alohomora!_ " A click.

"Thanks, Hermione. Just one more flight of--" A sudden halt. "Oh no. There's a light down there. He's already inside."

"Wait, that voice--"

"That's Dumbledore--and that's McGonagall--"

Clattering down stairs.

"What on--Hermione! Harry, Ron--what are the three of you doing here instead of upstairs?"

"I'm sorry, Professor McGonagall, we just--"

Dumbledore's voice, cutting through the conversation. "Silence! There is no time. They're coming through the passage. Harry, Hermione, Ron, stay behind us and out of sight. Flitwick, the light."

" _Nox._ "

Darkness. The sound of stone grinding against stone, then the tread of heavy footsteps.

Dumbledore again. "Now!"

Shouting, a blaze of light, the thunder of explosive spells. A shriek of rage, then returning fire.

"Harry, stop! You're _not_ going out there, if Ron and I have to sit on you!"

"I can see him! He's right over--"

"It doesn't matter! Leave it to Dumbledore and the teachers!"

"Let go of me!"

A scuffle. 

"Harry! Ron, stop him!" 

Footsteps stumbling towards the fighting, ducking around the edge of the battle. Muttering, "You bastard, you're going to have to look me in the face--" A yell, "Malfoy!"

A head turning. "What, not 'Draco' anymore?" Coolly.

A gasping breath. "How--how could you?" Angrily, "I should blast you back out the other end of that passage--"

"Well, if that's how you feel, take your best shot. Here, I'll make it easy for you. Go ahead."

"You sick bastard, Malfoy! Forget about Harry, _I_ want a piece of you! _Pugilisticus!_ "

"Ron, no--!"

A heavy thump, a cry of pain.

"'Ron, no'? Harry, you can't possibly--"

"I--I--"

"You're out of your head! Well, I'm not going to let you let him walk all over you. Come on, Malfoy, stand up so I can knock you down again, you son of a bitch."

"...oh yes, that's quite an incentive..."

Dumbledore's voice calling out, " _Excelsius Lumiens!_ " and a sudden flare of white light, steadily growing brighter. 

A shriek of anger and pain from Voldemort, then a command, "Withdraw! All of you!" A blast of green fire, hurrying feet. "And for you, Malfoy, what all who fail me receive! _Avara--_ "

A scream, "NO!"

"Harry, don't!"

" _Expelliarmus!_ "

A blast of red light, then mocking laughter. "Fool! Did you think that you would be able to disarm _me_? Now, to finish both of you off, you little--"

"Stop, Voldemort! If you strike them, I will have time to close the passage. You and your servants will be trapped."

A hiss. "Curse you, Dumbledore!"

"Choose, Voldemort. You can retreat or you can stay and fight to the end. But I think you might find it a bitter one."

A moment of silence. "There will be another time, old man. For all of you! _Smychein!_ " Billowing clouds of black smoke, heavy running footsteps and grating stone. 

Then silence.

After a moment, a deep breath, then, "Flitwick, could you give us some light again?"

"Of course, Headmaster. _Lumos_."

Steps crossing the room. " Are you badly hurt, Draco?"

A thickened voice, "I'm fine. It was only Weasley, after all."

Watching, bewildered, "Headmaster Dumbledore, I don't get it, why are you--he's the one who told Voldemort about the passage!"

A painful cough, then icy tones. "It was a trap, Weasley, you idiot."

"A--a trap?" Silence.

McGonagall's voice, stiff and shaky. "And of all the outrageously idiotic things you might have done, Malfoy--Headmaster, he should be up in the infirmary, now. Voldemort did start that curse."

"Yes. Pomfrey, why don't you take him upstairs. Minerva, Severus, I will want the two of you to help me seal up the passageway permanently."

"Of course, Headmaster. Draco, can you stand?"

"Yes." A scrabbling noise, then a thump. "Ah. No."

"Madame Pomfrey, I could levitate him--"

"Thank you, Hermione, that would do nicely. Ron, Harry, you two come along as well. The Headmaster will take care of everything here."

" _Wingardium leviosa!_ "

"Ow! Careful! I don't fancy floating into the ceiling, Granger."

"Don't tempt me, Malfoy. I can't believe you didn't tell--anyone!"

Muttered, "I told Dumbledore."

Bustling. "Yes, half an hour before the attack! Honestly, young man, you frightened us all out of ten years of our lives. Now, go ahead up the stairs first, Hermione, and mind the door at the top."

"I will, Madame Pomfrey."

Trailing behind. "Damn. I can't believe--Malfoy, of all people--"

Silence.

"Harry? You okay? He's going to be all right."

Whispered, "I should've trusted him--"

"Oh, come on! No one in his right mind would've trusted him. He practically told you not to himself!"

"You don't get it! He wanted to see if I'd believe in him--"

"I do get it, you ass. And I'm telling you, you couldn't have guessed. He was a jerk to do it."

A shrug.

"Besides, even when you thought he'd gone over, you didn't blast him. I did that." Grudgingly, "Suppose I owe him an apology... why are you stopping?"

"Maybe he won't want me in there."

A sigh. "I guess you really are in love. You're acting like a git."

"Look, Ron--"

"A _stupid_ git. Come on, if he doesn't want you around, he can throw you out." A swinging door.

Loud and annoyed, "Look, Granger, just put me down, don't swoop me all over the place."

"Stop complaining, Malfoy. Where do you want him, Madame Pomfrey?"

"The bed by the window, dear. Thank you, that's perfect. Now, you just rest here, Draco--I'm going to go brew a Refreshing Draught, that should put you to rights." Bustling out.

A long silence.

"Um. Look, Malfoy--"

"Spare me the groveling apologies, Weasley."

"They weren't going to be groveling."

"All the more reason to spare me."

Clearing throat. "Ron, I just remembered something I wanted to ask Madame Pomfrey."

"So?"

A glare. "So..."

"Oh! Oh, right. Let's go ask her." Footsteps leaving.

Another silence.

"Are--are you all right?"

"Fine."

More silence.

A cry, "Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

A half-shrug. "Thought it would be a nice surprise?"

"What, that you got yourself killed trying to trap Voldemort?"

"I seem to be not-dead-yet."

"Only because you're luckier than you have any right to be! Are you crazy? He could've squashed you like a bug!"

"Pot, kettle."

"What?"

"I seem to recall you taking a shot at him yourself! Like you're going to be able to disarm the Dark Lord like that."

"He was going to kill you!"

"Why the hell did you care? You thought I was on his side!"

Tightly, "Sorry, being in love doesn't come with an off-switch in case of sudden conversion to the Dark."

Silence. Fidgeting.

"Are you ever going to be able to believe me?"

"I--"

"I swear to God, Draco! Am I going to have to jump through hoops to convince you?"

"Harry--"

"No! What do you want from me? You tell me you don't care, you tell me you're going to dump me, you refuse to let anyone know--"

"Harry--"

"--and then you run off telling everyone you're going to join Voldemort, and you expect me to just blindly trust you--"

"I don't--"

"--and here I am telling you every damned day, following you around like some kind of lovesick idiot, fighting with Ron and Hermione over it, and you still won't--"

"I love you!"

"--believe me--what?"

"I love you."

Blinking.

"I'm not saying it again, so if there's something wrong with your hearing, you're bloody well out of luck."

Squeak of bedsprings. Soft kissing.

"Draco, I'm sorry," softly.

A pause. Equally softly, "So am I."

"And if you ever do anything like that again, I'll kill you."

"And they say romance is dead."

More kissing. 

A little breathlessly, "Harry?"

Panting, "Yes?"

"Do you suppose that door locks?"

"Are you sure you're well enough?"

"I'm fine. What's a kidney more or less, after all?"

Wincing. "Ron was a little angry."

"That's like saying Voldemort was mildly upset. Remind me to put something unpleasant in Weasley's bed one of these days."

"He said he was sorry."

"I just want to make sure of it."

A snicker. "You realize, you're going to have to learn how to get along with him."

"I am?"

"Yes."

A deep sigh. "Granger too, I suppose."

"Got it in one."

"This is unfair. I'm not going to have anyone left to torment."

"I'm sure you can find other ways to occupy your time."

"Speaking of which, are you going to lock that door or not?"

"Right." Bedsprings squeaking. " _Verrioul_." A click. "Now--"

"Wait--strip first."

"Oh, good thought." 

"No, not like that!"

"Huh?"

"Show off a bit."

"What?" Blushing. "Draco!"

"Here I am, almost-mortally-wounded trying to defeat your worst enemy, and you can't even do a little striptease for me?"

"You just said you were fine!"

"Oh, come on."

More blushing, then a whisper of fabric sliding slowly over skin.

Muffled snickering.

"That's it!" Rustling, fabric being tossed to the ground. Bedsprings squeaking. "Jerk."

"Just when it was getting good. Mmm."

"Mmm."

"Here, help me get this off." Rustle of fabric.

"Ow, that bruise is the size of my hand."

"It's not bad. Really."

"Are you sure--maybe we shouldn't--"

"By all means stop if you'd like one just like it." 

"Well, when you put it that way...mmm" 

"Mm--Ow!"

"That's it, I'm not going to keep hurting you."

Grumbling. "Here--wait--let me get on my side. Get behind me--there."

"Oh...I like this. Move your leg up a bit."

"Ahhh. Harry--put your hand--your fingers--oh yes."

A groan. "It's been two whole days."

"I know. Oh god. Do that again."

"Are you ready--"

"Yes, yes..."

Moans in unison. 

"Hold still for a bit?"

"Am I hurting you?"

"No, no...just want to enjoy it." A deep sigh.

"Ohhhh. Do that again."

"What?"

"Breathe in like that."

"Hmm, that's interesting. Like this?"

"oh yes. again...oh...can't keep still..." 

A shudder. "Ahhh...good. harder."

"Don't want--"

"I'm not going to break! Yes--yes, that's it, that's good..."

Panting. Moans. Bedsprings squeaking loudly.

"Harry--Harry--"

"yes..."

Sighs. 

"...so good." 

"Mmm..." A sudden hurriedly-stifled yelp. "Stop! That tickles!"

A laugh. "You taste good."

"That's no excuse for licking my neck."

"Stop complaining or I'll bite you."

Dryly, "Harry, these cannibalistic tendencies are starting to scare me--hey!" A pause. "Hm."

"What, you like that?"

"Try it again and find out...oh. Oh!"

"Yes, apparently."

"Stop smirking. Do you want to do something about it?"

Embarrassed, "I don't think I can again so soon."

A yawn. "That's all right. We can save it for tomorrow." Another yawn. 

"Coming out..."

"Oh..."

"You're sure you're all right?"

"Mm-hm. Ugh. Except for that."

"What?"

"I'm lying on the wet spot."

"Here-- _purificatio flaxen_."

"Ahh, much better." Rustling sheets. Snuggling.

Drowsily, "This is nice."

"Mmm."

Slow, deep breathing.

Rattle of a doorknob. Faintly, outside the door, "How odd... _Alohomora!_ " A click, faint squeak of hinges. "Now, Draco--Good Lord!"

Jerking awake. "Wh-What? Ack!" Loud squeak of bedsprings.

"Oh hell."

Horrified expressions all around.

"What--what are you two doing?"

"Um."

"Well--"

"We were just--"

"--nothing much--"

"--just, um, resting--"

"--Draco just fell asleep--"

"--no reason not to share--"

"--right!"

"There's another bed right next to yours. And I suppose you had to take your clothes off to sleep because it was too hot?"

Embarrassed silence.

Severely, "Honestly! In the infirmary, of all places!"

Muttered, "We're over the bloody age of consent."

"Then you should also be old enough to know better than to be doing things like that while you're sick." Clink of a glass. "Draco, you're to drink all of that. And as for you, Harry, I expect you outside, _with_ your clothing, if you please, in five minutes." Footsteps leaving, the soft snick of the door closing.

A thump of bedsprings. "I've never been this mortified in my life."

"Drink your medicine." Rustle of clothes being pulled on. "Look at it this way, it could be worse."

"How, exactly?" Drinking.

"It could've been Snape instead of Madame Pomfrey."

Frantic coughing. Faintly, "Don't say things like that."

Grinning. "Told you it could be worse."

"It _is_ worse now that I'm imagining that."

"Here, I'll make it better." Squeaking bedsprings. Kissing. 

A sigh. Wistfully, "That was nice, though."

"Sleeping together? Yeah. Have to try it sometime..."

Wryly, "It shouldn't be too hard now that I don't have roommates anymore."

"What happened to Crabbe and Goyle?"

"They're still with Voldemort, I expect." A pause. "Our fathers sent for us, you know. That's why we went."

"Why now? Graduation's so close--"

"Voldemort was planning an attack on the school anyway--he was going to sneak an assassin in to take out Dumbledore, then attack while everyone was panicking. I just managed to convince him the passage was a better way."

A swallow. "So...now what?"

"What do you mean?"

Quietly, "You seemed to think pretty horrible things would happen if you blew your cover."

"You needn't make me out to be a dashing secret agent or something, Potter."

"Well?"

A shrug. "They turned out to seem less horrible when the alternative was watching you die unpleasantly. But I think it's safe to assume that if I'm not disowned yet, it's only because my father expects Voldemort to kill me shortly and save him the trouble." 

"Well, I don't think you need to worry about people thinking you're like your father anymore."

A short laugh. "No, that's not one of my main concerns now." 

Tentatively, "Have you thought about what you'll be doing after graduation?"

A sideways glance. "That sounds suspiciously like an opening line."

"Well--"

"Spit it out, Harry."

"I was just thinking--we could--get a flat somewhere." 

"And pay for it how?"

"There are loads of jobs open in London for trained wizards. Dumbledore said he could help us find one..." 

"Help _you_ , you mean."

"Well, he said it to me and Ron and Hermione. But he'd help you too."

"I'm sure."

Exasperated, "He _would_ , all right? Trust me on this."

A sigh, then a faint smile. "I suppose it can't hurt to try--Mmmph!" 

Kissing.

"Potter, don't get excited, I just said--"

"It's going to work out fine, Draco. I promise."

A knock on the door. From outside, "Harry, out, now! He needs to _rest_!"

Annoyed muttering.

"All right, I'd better go--get some sleep. I'll come by tomorrow morning."

"All right."

A quick kiss.

Hesitating by the door. "Sleep well..."

"Yes, I got that part already, Harry. What is it?"

"Would you--"

Blank stare.

"Could you just--say it one more time?"

Blushing. Softly, "I love you." More normally, "Now get out, you sentimental ass."

A broad grin. "I knew it all along."

"You don't have to rub it in or anything." 

Another knock on the door.

"Coming, coming! Night, Draco."

"Night, Harry."

A door opening and closing.

Rustling of sheets.

The door opening. "Draco?"

Sleepily, "Yes?"

"I love you too, you know."

"Yes. I know."


End file.
